Death Becomes Him
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: A vampire AU which focuses on Ivan and Toris, with other characters to appear later. Also Side B will come eventually.
1. Chapter 1

Notes:

Obviously edited. I decided having the 'teaser' chapter was too confusing so I have removed it. Might upload it separately. I don't have plans to update this too terribly much due to other fics but I had to at least finish the prologue!

(Also I credit DA Arafel/LJ Pimpyuki for making this backstory with me!)

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Sickness hung in the air of the town like a haze of putrid fog. In reality it was only the breath in front of their own faces which carried the deadly illness from one person to the next. It clung to each new victim like a demon, sucking out their life force while liquefying their insides to slush as useless as the half-melted snow which blanketed every cobblestone street. The church was full of infected townsfolk, huddling together as they prayed to God to deliver them some relief from this unending suffering; the alleys were cluttered with many more. The clergy no longer offered anything but prayers for the pitiful victims, burning a fortune in incense alone just to fight off the scent of decay and death which suffocated the streets.

The plague was a curse of God, or some claimed. Nothing made one religious quite like the fear of death. And with this quickly spreading panic, the church was overflowing. However, this was not all for naught. In fact, it seems that all those prayers had been useful. There was a miracle in this small village; word had gotten out that there was a cure. Most people scoffed at this ridiculous notion. 'A _cure_ for the _plague? _Impossible!'. And yet those who traveled from this aforementioned village all held the power to walk amongst the sick and the dying without ever falling ill themselves. Preaching of this miraculous medicine only to be found within the borders of the Commonwealth, inside the Grand Dutchy of Lithuania, they gained many believers.

It was with great outcry that they learned, upon traveling hundreds of miles to receive this miracle medicine, that the church had recently condemned this cure. 'The Devil's poison', they called it. Drinking it may save your life for now, but it was sure to damn your soul to hell for an eternity when you died. It was less of a deterrent than the church would have liked. And who could blame them, the helpless horde of already sick and dying, when the bodies were piling up by the day! Thankfully for the masses, the city council its self had taken over distribution of the medicine. The Mayor, himself a religious man, calmed the citizens and foreigners alike with promises that he would not stop handing out the cure. But with the shift from church to government, there came a price… quite literally.

The cure now cost a hefty price, and no foreign money was to be accepted! They did accept jewelry and other valuables, and it had even been said that one or two women had been handed into marriage without a dowry just so that their families could survive. Every Sunday they handed out the small green-glass bottles of medicine, collecting the empties later in the day. Turning the empty glass back in would get you a small fee in return and so almost everyone did so. They would even pay you for any small glass bottle you could bring them, causing a ruckus in search of anything that could qualify.

Currently, the town's square was empty of crushing feet, pushing hands, and shoving bodies. Pieces of precious broken glass littered the slush-and-snow covered stones here and there from where a shoving fight had gotten too carried away. It was all being covered by a fresh blanket of snow, as if it could hide all of the filth underneath that pure white. However there was nothing _pure _about the snow unfortunately, only more _cold. _An icy chill gripped the night air just as strongly as the sickness did its victims. It entered through the lungs, seeping in right to the core to chill the body from the inside. Warmth left through that same way, in a puff of fog so thick it was almost tangible, chased out by the demon of ice. It attacked the skin as well, covering it with a thin frost until you felt you couldn't move a muscle.

One such victim of the cold went unnoticed in the shroud of night which blanketed the town at this late hour. He'd been there for hours now, ever since the sun was low on the horizon of rooftops visible from the square. He was tired from his day of trying to communicate with the difficult people of this place. Everyone he'd spoken to had either replied in an irritated foreign tongue and shooed him away, or ignored him all together as if he didn't exist. Finally the mayor himself had been able to tell him, in a very thickly accented Russian, that there was no more medicine for today. He'd even given the boy a bit of money for the chipped glass bottle that he had been keeping water in, but then he was told it wasn't nearly enough to purchase the cure.

'Go and ask your parents for more, child.' had been the last straw. In a huff, the young Russian had crunched a pile of already broken glass with his better fitting shoe and trudged off. He hadn't gone far, however. The men had all been talking amongst themselves, and he had heard a few words that he knew. The word for 'medicine' was easy to pick out, and the words 'night' and 'later' had been picked up along his travels. So then, more medicine was coming later tonight! He'd been curious about the man they spoke about, too! Was he a rich man? Some sort of holy man, perhaps? Though the church was calling him a demon; a servant of the Devil. Well a man like that might be interesting to meet too, right? And he would gladly sell his soul for some of that precious medicine!

Though as the hours dragged on the boy was getting less and less excited. The sun had been down for a long time, and with it the cold had only gotten worse. No… It had gotten _stronger. _Beside the run-down wooden stand which probably used to be a shop, he sat huddled up against the side to escape the soul-chilling wind. Amidst the shadows he was all but invisible in his thin pants and slightly oversized shirt, bare hands clenched together in his lap where his fingers were going numb. On his head sat a thick furry hat that was several sizes too large. It was pushing his messy, ash-blond bangs down into his eyes each time that it slipped down, only to be shoved up again. His mouth and red nose were covered by a dirty scarf, which wrapped around his neck only to reach the ground behind him. Only his eyes were visible at all, twin violet irises against a slightly reddish background.

The boy sniffed again as the wind picked up, his arms and legs already tingling with icy pins and needles. He'd already thought of almost anything that he could in order to pass the time. From the answer to why the answer was blue to the question of what color the sky was, when it was so clearly gray at the time, to why they said green about the grass, when there was only brown. If it wasn't for the pain of the cold, he might have fallen asleep… It was just as those eyes closed to rest for a moment that he heard a sound. A click of glass and small scuffle of shoes on slush-covered stones…

Through the gently falling snow there came a figure, as if right out of the shadow of the alley he stepped out of. He wore along wool coat which fit to his slender frame, buttoned tightly and reaching his knees. It was a thick coat, but it was clearly very old. His shoes were old leather boots, laces fraying and looser than they should have been, but some of the eyelets were missing from the sides. Wind-swept brunette hair hung to about his shoulders, snowflakes decorating it without melting. It was clear to see against this dark night that something was off about this man… It wasn't his skin that stood out, though it was rather strange as well. A pale white, which nearly matched the snow all around him as contrast to his darker hair and clothing. But even more than his appearance was what he carried in his arms.

A large, crude wooden crate rest between the slender man's hands at about waist level. Glass clinked together with every step he took, drawing a worried glance from the man carrying it. Over the top there could be seen that several good-sized glass jars rest inside, and something was moving with each move despite the care the man took to keep the crate still. There was so much… this was all that he could give. There would be no more, despite how much the men would beg him. They only wanted the money now anyway… Ever since the church had condemned him, the officials had only found profit in the plague. It was already at the point that food was scarce. Every living animal was either a pet or used as a last resort for starving townsfolk who wasted nothing.

Reaching the steps of the Mayor's manor, several men filed out of the house's huge double doors. The light from the inside of the house made him wince, though a welcome gust of heat washed over him as two of them came close. They each took a hold of a side of the crate, pulling it away quickly.

"Be carefu—!" The strange man warned, reaching out his hand to study the precious cargo. Glass clinked, and a thin stream slipped out from under the hide which had been tied with twine around the mouth of the jar. Crimson stained the fresh blanket of snow laying over the stairs of the manor, and one of the men gagged noticeably. Another man stepped up, shoving him out of the way to take over his side. They took the crate from the brunette's hands easily then, hurrying away with it up towards that open door. A fourth man stepped out to shoo away the one who had gagged, giving him a glare before he fixed his eyes on the bringer of the crate.

"Mayor Livanaiktis would like to thank you again for this kind contribution. No matter what the church says, we would like to express our thanks for your continued aid…" He was reaching in to his pocket, pulling out a stack of paper money. "On behalf of the Mayor and all the fine folk of this town…" He trailed off as the stranger's green eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I won't accept that!" He protested, holding up his hands. Money from the pockets of people desperate enough to sell their sons and daughters, and their every last possession… He didn't want that kind of blood on his hands!

"We _insist,_" The man continued, taking a hold of the brunette's wrist. He winced at the coldness of that pale skin, but he shoved the stack of money into his palm and let go quickly. The stranger struggled not to let the money fall; not taking it was one thing, but wasting it was another entirely! The villager nodded his head back behind him, to the plump silhouette of the man in the doorway. "We look forward to your continued service to…"

"That's the last of it." The stranger said however, his voice as cold as his wrist had been.

"We can pay more…" He started, but stopped again at the glare that he was leveled with. Giving a bow of his head, he turned on his heel and very quickly fled back up the stairs that he had come from. Double doors closed with a heavy click, shutting off that orange-yellow glow, and the warmth that had come with it. The stranger sighed, shoving the money into his pocket with disdain as he too turned to leave. Some of the money fluttered to the snow, dampening in what had become slush from the men's footsteps, but he paid it no mind.

Feet crunched on glass hidden by snow as he headed away, chaos hidden by a blanket of pureness. This whole city was steeped in it… A miracle cure that had become a demon's poison in a matter of weeks, and humans were losing their souls to obtain it while they crushed their neighbors underfoot. There were freezing, starving bodies in the allies, almost inseparable from the dead. But _he _knew the difference… He could _smell _it, even under the stench of unwashed bodies, urine, alcohol, and sickness. The blood… The humans weren't the only ones who were starving.

As he entered one such alley, he didn't even notice the smaller figure some ways behind him, who had stooped to pick up that carelessly discarded money with already frozen fingers. There was so much coughing, sneezing, and groaning from every side that he didn't even hear it. That small sound which would have given it all away. It was the simple high-pitched whisper of a knife being drawn, and the footsteps behind him.

"Ah!" It was a quiet gasp of breath that alerted him, and the stranger turned just in time to catch a glimpse of the flash from the silver of the blade. Starving or not, his body jumped into action. The knife grazed his side, unable to cut past the wool coat to reach the skin beneath. Lashing out with one pale hand, he seized his assailant's wrist in an iron grip, causing him to cry out as he dropped the knife to the ground. Jerking hard, the taller body moved with ease to slam face first into the side of the building as his arm was twisted up around behind his back. Held firmly by his wrist, the stranger grabbed the back of his neck for good measure.

Lips pulled back in a somewhat feral nature as he felt the man's pulse race against his fingers, that neck slick with sweat even in this cold. Fangs poked into his lower lip as he bent close, stopping only a moment later. This collar… a _priest_! Aha… So, the church was trying to kill him already? The man was spitting curses, and the brunette's entire body was shaking with strain. Each struggle only made the man's heart beat faster, his blood run _hotter… _Green eyes nearly closed as the stranger gave a low, anguished whine. Pulling back at arm's length, he bit into his own lower lip to resist. No way could he…!

"_Are you going to eat him_?"

The voice was clear as day, cutting through his haze of bloodlust like a knife through water. Wide green eyes turned to the side in disbelief to behold a figure standing not twenty feet away, down the alley he had come from. It was small, dressed in ill fitting clothes and a hat and scarf. The eyes which met his own were equally wide, though the strangest color of violet…

"Run, child!" The priest was shouting. "This man is a demon!" The said 'demon' in question gave a frustrated growl, annoyed with the man's ignorance. He was speaking Polish, but the child had clearly spoken Russian!

"_You should eat him quickly…_" The boy remarked, raising one blond eyebrow as he pushed his hat up out of his eyes. But the stranger threw the man away from him instead; the priest coughing as he hit the ground. Scrambling for his footing on the slick stones, the attempted assailant stood up and ran uneasily towards the child. "_Ah, your supper_!" The boy squeaked in surprise. There was money at his feet, which looked like the money the vampire had dropped moments earlier. He had followed him from the manor at the square?

"Come child! Run!" He called to the boy, touching his shoulder for a strong tug as he ran by. The blond merely stumbled a little, his eyes never leaving that of the vampire's as the priest's fingers slid from his shirt. Too terrified to look back the older man only continued to escape on his own, vanishing around the bend in the alley, his footsteps fading swiftly. The child was giving the brunette a look of awe, but also slight disappointment. His eyes were so bright with curiosity, and for all the wrong things. But his center of interest only shook his head, covering his face with his hands as he fell to his knees and doubled over.

"Go on, boy! Go home!" He shouted to the boy, in an accented Russian. It wasn't his native tongue, but he knew it pretty well by now. But the child only frowned stubbornly.

"I don't live here…" Not even close! Mismatched shoes scuffled as the boy came close, smiling suddenly. "Oh, do you want mine?" He asked excitedly. "I'll give it to you! That's what you want, right? _Blood_!" The boy added in broken Lithuanian. "_For cure. Cure. _Do you understand?" He tugged the scarf away from his slender neck, turning his head to the side. That beautiful vein showed plain as day on this dark night, standing out from his skin slightly. The vampire stood and backed away as if he had been burned by the very presence of this child, uncovering his face to gaze at the child in shock. What was he going on about…! Did he even know what it was that he was saying? _Ah_, the money from the ground… the blood that had spilled... he must have seen it! And then, this attack…! The vampire shook his head quickly.

"No! No, I refuse!" He protested. Standing this close, he could see the boy more clearly now. That nose which was red with cold, pale skin and slender neck… He came to about the brunette's chest, though he couldn't be over nine years old. Oh, just the _scent _of such a child… There was the faint hint of sickness about him, and yet it wasn't from the boy himself. _Healthy, young _blood… The vampire covered his mouth with his hand, giving a low groan of anguish. The boy only looked angry now, his voice sharp.

"Yes!" He protested, fists clenching and eyes narrow. "If you don't eat you'll die! Right?" The blonde's voice was rushed now, as if he was anxious. "Ah, I know!" He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out his knife. The brunette tensed, thinking he meant to fight him. But instead the child lifted the knife to his own outstretched forearm, sliding the blade across it before the vampire could react otherwise. Though the blade was old and dull, it made quite a nice cut there. Red blood seeped to the surface at once, gathering and falling in small trickles. The small blond was wincing slightly, and yet his smile stayed. "See? I'm already bleeding… Hurry…!"

The scent alone was overpowering. Fangs dug in to his lower lip hard enough to hurt as his green eyes gravitated to that wound, watching with rapt attention as the first few drops hit the snow—wasted! He swallowed hard, throat tight and oh so dry… His body ached from lack of sustenance for far too long. Dropping to his knees in front of the boy, the vampire's expression was the very picture of anguish as he groaned, "Oh, you _fool…_" seizing that arm by the wrist firmly. The child seemed to tremble then, though it was not from fear, but in excitement. Pale lips parted as the brunette drew close, his cool wet tongue touching first. He lapped swiftly and expertly at that wound, gathering every drop which threatened to fall.

The boy's lips parted for a gasp, eyes nearly closing as he watched attentively. And the moment that those lips sealed over the gash, he flinched. His arm tensed as the vampire began to suck, the sting shooting up along his arm to tug at his heart its self. It caused his pulse to skip a beat, as his if life had just skipped a moment in time. It was… relief that he felt suddenly. All of the pain from the inside; the harrowing trip to this village, his family's slow dissolution and withering health… It suddenly found at outlet in this. And as for the vampire, he felt nothing… Nothing but satisfaction the moment that the child's thick red blood rolled over his tongue, wetting his parched throat, and soothing the ache of starvation…

The brunette was conscious of the pain he knew that it was causing, he knew it by how the boy's arm tensed, and he heard him gasp once or twice more whenever the pain became too much to hold inside. He hated himself even as he swallowed down that sweet blood, a slave to his own needs for just one moment. And yet the youth never once attempted to pull away, his knife still held tightly in his free hand. He could have used it at any moment; the vampire couldn't be more vulnerable when he was feeding! Yet he waited patiently, the tears in his eyes having little to do with the pain its self. And finally, the vampire ceased to suck at the wound. His tongue cleaned it once again, and he cut his tongue on his own fang. Now the boy gave a soft sound of surprise at the burn that he felt as his skin knitted closed. It was nowhere near healed, the brunette didn't have enough blood in him for that, but when he pulled back it had stopped bleeding completely.

While the stranger licked his lips, giving gasps of breath which created not even a cloud in front of his pale lips, the child looked at his arm in wonder. He put away his knife in a hurry, tracing his fingers over the cut curiously. What had he done…? "Boy," The soft voice spoke in Russian, and he looked up just as the vampire touched his cheek. It was all that the brunette could do to make his expression as affectionate as he felt right now. This sweet child, this little foolish human, how could he even begin to thank him? "You'll need rest," He continued, licking pale lips which had begun to color slightly. "Can I take you home?"

"You're cold…" The child said quietly, as if he had just noticed. After all, the youth's body was cold, but this man was much colder! He blinked his eyes slowly; the tears which had gathered in his eyes slipping down his ruddy cheeks. The vampire swore he felt his unbeating heart breaking. Expression becoming worried, he stood and pulled the boy in close. The youth didn't resist at all, though he was surprised at the sudden affectionate hold. He closed his eyes, leaning in to the taller, though colder man…

"You poor thing, you must be freezing out here!" And now with less blood to warm him, thanks to this stranger! "I hate the cold… We need to get you somewhere warm. Please, tell me where to take you."

"Ah!" The blond spoke up as if just remembering. Violet eyes looked up in alarm, his expression anxious again. "My sisters…! You have to save them! Natasha will die soon, just like mother. And Katya is getting tired too! M-my mother…" Those wet eyes threatened to overflow again, voice strained as his throat tightened as if refusing to let him continue that sentence. The vampire understood all too well; the story was all too common. Even if the children were locked away inside, the parents still had to go out for supplies, making them the most susceptible to the sickness.

"Of course." The vampire agreed readily. It was the least that he could do after what this child had done, what he had risked… "Just tell me your name, and where to find them…" With a swift repositioning of his arms, the child was lifted with little effort on the stranger's part. The boy seemed surprised—he was quite heavy for a child after all!—though he was ultimately delighted at this show of strength. He smiled wide, also happy that his plan had worked even better than he'd ever imagined.

"We're at the inn!" The child's chest puffed out slightly, as much as it could as he was being carried. "My name is Ivan Vikentovich Braginski! What is yours, vampire?" He asked without an ounce of formality or respect. The brunette smiled at this brashness as he headed for the inn.

"It's Toris. Toris Lorinaitis." This name was repeated by the blond youth in his arms, who committed it to memory.

"Lithuanian!" Ivan said in excitement. So, this vampire wasn't Polish, though he had spoken it with the men in the square. He was happy about this, but he didn't elaborate as the vampire confirmed this.

"Ah, yes… Tell me Ivan, is it just you and your sisters?" Though Toris had seen many broken families, it never made it any easier to see children suffering alone. The Russian boy shook his head,

"No, we have Papa! But he's fighting the Turks right now. Mama… She died on the way here, and sister Katya started getting sick, and I carried Natasha here on my own!" He explained as the inn came into view. The streets were all cold and empty, save for the huddled and the dead which lined them. The building its self was old and brittle, probably the cheapest place around and yet even then it was almost empty. Wind whipped around their hair and clothing as Toris stepped inside the front door, letting it slam shut behind him. Stray snow fell to the floor around them from the burst of air, and Ivan shivered. They received but a glance from the man at the desk, who lifted one eyebrow only to look back down again. The Russian pointed with one hand to the stairs, as he continued speaking.

Ivan's family was from Russia originally, but they had moved around a bit due to his father's military career. He was gone when the plague had hit, and his mother had fallen ill first. Like many others, they'd set off in search of the cure… As they neared the door, Toris chided the young Russian about the carelessness of what he had done; what if he had killed him and his sisters were left alone? Ivan only laughed, stating with all confidence that such a thing wouldn't make any sense. Why would a man who went through such lengths to cure the sickness infesting the town, and who turned down a perfectly deserving adult meal, harm a child? And also, he hadn't had any money, and so what other way was he to pay for the cure! A trap, the vampire realized suddenly. And quite a bold one for a human so young.

Toris had no way of knowing the full consequences that he faced as soon as he stepped into that room, passing the threshold and entering into the lives of these three Russians. Little did he know that the impression that he left on that night would catch back up to him, some twenty years down the road…

Other notes:

Katya and Natasha, Ekaterina(Ukraine) and Natalya's intimate names.

Though it's not expressly explained, Toris was giving his blood to be mixed with whatever drink the people giving it out chose. This acted as a cure to the humans who drank it, healing the parts of them affected by the plague and fighting off the remainder of it, effectively 'healing' them.

The date here is around early 1772, before the first partition of Poland/the Commonwealth of Lithuania and Poland. I'll gladly answer any questions you may have in my next chapter notes!


	2. Chapter 2

The wind whipped Toris' hair around his face and neck when he opened the door to the inn. A flurry of snow came in after him, and he held Ivan's face to his chest as he shuddered, closing the door behind him. Though he couldn't feel the cold like a human could, he knew just how chilly it was by the shivering boy in his arms. "Which room?" Toris asked quickly. The clerk only gave them a glance, recognizing the Russian in his arms and lifting one eyebrow slightly. If Toris could have blushed he would have. Oh what the man must think! A grown man like himself, and one that Ivan had not been seen with before, coming back and asking which room… Ivan didn't seem to notice, and he murmured from Toris' chest.

"Upstairs… Fourth on the right!" Toris nearly ducked his head down, heading out of the lobby with all speed possible. The sooner he was away from that misunderstanding gaze the better. The stairs creaked in protest as they headed up them, and Ivan's hands curled into Toris' coat lapels. "…What would you have done if I didn't give you blood?"

"Sh-_shh…_" Toris warned quietly. "I-I would have figured something out. Don't try and justify what you've done, though! I told you that was very dangerous… If I was any other… like me, they would have killed you! I can take care of myself."

"_Da, da,_" Ivan gave a sigh, and his breath was warm on Toris' cold neck. "Well I'm saying that you're horrible at it! You should just let me do it…" Toris didn't even get a chance to respond as Ivan pointed his hand at a door. "There, there!" Toris carefully set the boy down and Ivan wobbled a little, seeming confused as to why he couldn't quite get his balance. "H-how…"

"I told you, blood loss… Watch yourself, alright?" But Ivan batted away the hands offering to help, giving an embarrassed frown.

"St-stop saying 'I told you', you sound like my sister!" Ivan complained, heading for the door. Toris gave a small sigh, following after. Ivan opened the door, reaching back to wrap his warm fingers around Toris' cold ones, pulling him in as soon as it was wide enough. The room was small, and yet it probably cost a fortune in this town right now. There was a bed to the right, and in it there was a wrapped bundle of a small body. Straight ahead was a window, and to the left a table and chairs, and a small stove. It wasn't lit—firewood would be expensive as well. A woman rose from that table as Toris closed the door behind them. He knew it was a woman by her slight build, but she was wrapped tightly in a blanket. She dropped it when she spotted Ivan, giving a gasp.

"Vanya! You terrible boy, I looked all over for you!" She scolded, though there were tears in her blue eyes. Her hair was long and blond, braided nicely behind her. Her dress was old, and it looked a little big on her, except… The chest seemed to fit her perfectly. Though she was slight of build, she seemed quite ample there. She couldn't be over sixteen! Ivan was laughing as she rushed over to gather him into a hug, shoulders trembling with her unshed tears. "The men told me to give up and go back inside! They say that there's a demon out there Vanya! A… A _vampire_!" She whispered the word, as if saying it might bring the said 'creature' down on them. Toris grew tense, but Ivan only laughed again.

"I know Katya, I met him!" The boy proclaimed proudly. His sister frowned immediately, pointing her finger in a scolding manner.

"Oh Vanya, if mama was alive she'd punish you for worrying us and then lying!" Ivan's smile never faded, and even Toris was starting to see how ill-behaved this child was. With no parents to raise you and a sister who seemed too soft-hearted for that though, it couldn't be helped. And Ivan didn't seem like a _bad _child…

"That's not important!" Ivan said with a shake of his head. He indicated Toris now, pointing right up to his face. "This man came to help us!"

"O-oh!" Toris was a little surprised to be introduced so informally. He smiled shyly, giving a small nod of his head. "My name is Toris Laurinaitis, miss."

"Y-you speak Russian?" Katya was surprised, her blue eyes roaming over the man before her. Toris didn't look Russian at all, and he knew it. Still he noticed that blush of color cross her pale cheeks.

"I-I picked it up in my travels. Your brother waited all night in front of the city hall until the medicine was brought in, so please don't be so angry with him. I came back with him because he said his sisters were ill." And indeed there was a scent of illness in the room. Only faintly from the young woman in front of him, but from the one on the bed… He only knew the other—Ivan's other sister right?—was alive because he could smell her blood. "Do you perhaps have some ale or porridge in which I could put the medicine into?"

"P-porridge or ale? N-no, I'm afraid not…"

"The kasha, _sestra_!" Ivan spoke up. "We have the kasha, make that." He said firmly, and Toris was struck silent with surprise. This boy… He was really pushing it! Ordering your older sibling around like that was quite insolent. But Katya only nodded, smiling at Toris a little. "Don't make any for him." At this, Katya's expression was stricken, and Toris could just hear her unspoken protest of 'don't be so rude!' Ivan only crossed his arms. "He's already eaten! And stop looking at him like that, he's mine! Mine!" At that Katya blushed deeply, looking at a loss again. Not only was her brother being quite rude, but he was claiming another man! She really couldn't control him…

"I-it's alright! It doesn't bother me, really." Toris spoke up with a small laugh, as if to say 'kids these days!' "Please, prepare the kasha. When it's ready I will add the medicine to it, it will go down much easier that way." Katya gave a small nod, murmuring her thanks as she moved over to the bag by the stove, her pretty face still quite pink. Because they had been moving so far they'd brought many essentials with them, including a beaten old pot. She lifted it to the stove, getting out the millet seeds and pouring them inside. Toris glanced to the window and frowned to see that the night was more than half-gone already. He had to make this as short as possible. He was brought back to awareness as Ivan's hand took his own again, tugging him over to the window that he's been looking at. Running over to the table, Ivan grabbed a chair and pulled it over. "O-oh, thank you." Toris said as he took a seat.

Ivan hurried away then, moving over to the bed. He tugged down the covers a little, and Toris heard a small and feminine groan. Long blond hair spilled out from the sheets, messy and tangled. Ivan ran his small fingers through it, brushing it away from the little girl's face. "_Natasha,_" He whispered. The little girl smiled then, and Ivan grabbed a cloth to wipe at her brow. This girl… Toris could smell her sickness from the window. Would she have even lasted the night? Ivan leaned down to kiss her forehead, and he covered her back up. And with affection like that… Ivan would have fallen ill in no time at all. Another family destroyed by the plague. What was even worse were the families that locked away their ill. They put them in sheds or barns, and gave them but a blanket. Most of them died of the cold before the illness, and it hard to say what the kinder death was. Ivan returned to 'his' vampire once his sister was covered up, and Katya was boiling the kasha now with what little water she had gotten earlier. There seemed to be just enough kindling to make it through the night, now that they had to use it.

"Where is the medicine?" Ivan asked quietly once he was close, eyes wide. "_What_ is it? Let me see it!" He held out his hand eagerly. Toris tensed, sitting a little stiffly.

"O-oh, that..." He glanced around a little. "Listen to me, Ivan..." He took the boy's hands, pulling him closer to stand in front of him. "You can't talk about this," His thumb brushed over the cut on Ivan's arm. "You can't talk about _me_. They... You saw that man, the church man. They believe that I am evil, and that all those I cure are going to hell. But such things are just silly. No one goes to hell just from getting over the plague..." He smiled a little. "You believe that, right?" Ivan only dropped his eyes to where Toris' thumb rest on the end of his wound, his lips curling into a smile as he looked up.

"It would be quite troublesome if they did..." Ivan glanced back at his ill sister briefly. Turning his gaze back to Toris' eyes, he grinned a little more. "You can't be evil! You're more like an angel!"

"An… Angel?" Now that Toris had a bit of blood in him it all seemed to rush to his face. That spread of color was small, but it would be noticeable on his pale skin. Ivan nodded quickly, moving his free hand to rest over the one on his arm.

"Mama always said that one would come one day to save my soul. That I would fall in love..." Of course, his poor late mother had meant a nice _woman_. "I won't talk, if it will protect you!" Ivan added quickly. _Angel. _The young Russian was speaking about saving souls and love but the Lithuanian could only focus on that word. He'd never... been called anything like that before. He had helped so many in his long life, but in the end he was always condemned. A holy man, maybe, but that was only before the real men of God discovered what he was. They always caught on towards the end…

"I-I... Yes. Yes, it would protect me." Toris nodded, though in reality it would protect _them_. These poor three children... He brought Ivan's hands to his lips then, kissing them. "You are such a good boy Ivan, I can see that in you. You're very strong and noble in your own way..." Toris smiled; a true smile this time. "What's in the cure doesn't matter, does it? Not even I can explain how it works... It's just that it does..." Ivan leaned in close however, almost _too_ close.

"It doesn't..." Ivan agreed, tilting his head a little, "But I still want to know. What is it, why do only you have it...?" Toris winced at the boy's curiosity. He glanced over to the stove, but Katya was cooking busily and minding her own business. Looking back, he licked his dry lips swiftly. Ivan's face was so close to his own that he could feel the boy's hot breath on his face, and the only thing that kept Toris from pulling back was the fear of being overheard.

"I... am different from you _now_ Ivan, but I was once like you. Human, that is. Now I... I am what I am." There was a short pause. "And you knew didn't you? That I feed on others..." He traced that cut again, gently with his thumb, and Ivan shuddered. "It's in the blood. Everything... it's in the blood. It's such a precious thing to you, and yet to me... It is _everything_. I take it into me, and inside of me it changes. I discovered that it has the power to heal when given back to humans." He smiled, "It's the least that I can do..."

"It… its blood? _Your_ blood?" Ivan's violet eyes were as wide as they could go, his lips slack in shock. He gave a little hitch of breath, turning his head to the side, "Sister!" He shouted, and Toris' back straightened in panic. He was going to tell—"I'm taking my medicine straight, so save the kasha, okay?" Katya glanced over with a frown.

"Are you sure Vanya? The last time you were ill it took mama and me nearly an hour to get you to swallow—."

"_Da, da, _just keep cooking! I'll take it!" Ivan frowned, blushing as little in embarrassment. Not in front of the guest! Katya sighed, murmuring to herself as she went back to stirring. Ivan turned back to Toris, nearly bouncing. "So you'll have _me_... and I'll have _you_." He did his very best to keep his voice down. If Toris could have blushed right now he would have again. H-he didn't mean it like… That is, Ivan had no idea how that sounded, right? Toris was hesitant of course, but he supposed if it would save their food then it would be for the better right?

"A…Alright." He agreed at last, standing from his chair with a creak of the old wood. Toris turned until his back was to the boy's sister, cutting off her line of sight as he rolled up one sleeve of his coat. "It's probably bitter, though... Let me see that knife." Ivan fumbled to retrieve the knife from his pocket, holding it out eagerly. Taking it from the boy, Toris poked the tip in to his own pale wrist until a bead of bright red blood welled up. "Now suck, just gently..." He held his wrist out. Ivan didn't even hesitate. Small hands grasped Toris' elbow and his arm just above the cut that had been created. His pink tongue caught the drop of blood that was about to fall. Warm and wet, it lapped up the trail as well, before those pale lips sealed over the wound entirely.

Ivan closed his eyes as he sucked, and Toris winced. _Ah _that stung…! He wasn't about to complain however, not when _his _drinking had made Ivan _cry… _He had no way of knowing that Ivan hadn't cried from physical pain alone. Now and then that tongue would lap at the already healing cut, and it was all that Toris could do not to groan aloud. Everything about this young human was so _warm… _Behind him, Katya glanced back over to the window. Her back straightened when she saw the stranger standing, and… she couldn't see her brother with him in the way. J-just what was Ivan doing for this medicine! Blushing deeply, she decided she would rather not know.

It burned Ivan's throat—the blood. Like the vodka his father used to give him, it tingled for a while. It was cold too, which seemed strange for blood. But he felt his arm stinging as well, and so when Toris' other hand set the knife onto the windowsill to reach out and pat his hair with a whisper that it was enough, Ivan pulled back with a gasp of air. Licking his lips, he watched as the stranger's wrist healed right in front of him. Remembering his own strange tingling in his arm, he looked to his cut again. Before the bleeding had stopped, and now it was already half-healed! "_Amazing…_" Ivan whispered softly. Looking up again, he smiled.

"The kasha is done!" Katya called from behind them. Toris turned to the side, and Ivan looked annoyed at being interrupted. The vampire discretely picked up the knife from the windowsill again.

"Good! Make two bowls of it and give them to me. I'll add the medicine and then you two can take it." Toris directed. Katya pulled out two bowls from the bag, scooping the lumpy kasha into them. Once they were ready she handed them over, and Toris took them over to the table. Making sure that he was concealed he cut his wrist again with the knife, letting just enough blood into each bowl. Stirring it in until the color was gone, he turned back around. "It's ready." Toris' voice was rather professional suddenly. "Don't mind if its bitter of course, and try and eat as much of it as you can. You're going to find yourself tired come tomorrow, so just sleep it off. You also might find bright light..." _Like say the sun_, "Quite annoying for that day. But I promise you'll feel so much better by the next day!" Katya had moved over to the bed, sitting on the side of it as she lightly touched her sister's shoulder.

"Natasha, it's time for food! I know you don't feel well but…" She paused when there was a whisper, leaning down closer to the lump in the blankets. "..Ah? But I can do it…"

"Ivan! I want Ivan!" The girl's voice was loud and strong, but then she dissolved into coughing. Ivan sighed, moving to take one of the bowls into his hands. Moving over to the bed, he smiled at Katya.

"I can take care of her." With a small troubled frown, Katya nodded as she moved over to the table. Sitting on the empty seat, she brought a bite to her lips. Wincing at the taste, she chewed and swallowed it down. It wasn't as if the siblings were unused to bland or bitter food after all. Natalya was frowning at the bowl in disdain on the other side, and Ivan was trying hard to coax her to eat. In the end he was forced to put a bite into his own mouth and transfer it to hers, and only _then _did she feel like eating. Reaching in to his pocket, Toris' fingers closed around the money there. Swallowing, he pulled it out.

"U-um… Katya, was it?" At that the oldest sibling's face went beet red, and she almost choked on her kasha. Covering her mouth, she flustered, blue eyes not quite meeting Toris' face.

"E-Ekaterina!" She corrected. Toris knew Russian, but it seems he'd failed to grasp the sensitive nature of names yet. He would have been blushing too if he had more blood in his system.

"I-I'm sorry! Miss Ekaterina, here." He set the money down on the table. "Take this and head up north. You'll run across a small farming town that's big on linen. Making clothing will be prosperous, and your brother could work in the fields at his age. At least until you're on your feet again! You might want to see about picking up Polish or Lithuanian for now…" Katya looked guilty as she picked up the money, holding it close to her ample chest. She knew she shouldn't take it—who knew what her brother did to earn it, but she wouldn't refuse.

"Y-yes, thank you Mr. Laurinaitis! I-I already know some Lithuanian…" She said with a nervous smile. As handsome as this man was, there was something about him. Something _off…_

"That's good! I really wish I could do more, but I'm afraid I have to leave this town soon. There are other places that need me, and…" And I'm not welcome here anymore.

"Oh, you've done more than enough Sir! Thank you!" There were tears in those eyes, and Toris knew that she was honest. Ivan was kissing Natalya's forehead, brushing her bangs back.

"You get some rest. Big brother loves you, so get better. This medicine will make you well again…" He pulled away, carrying the bowl over to the table and setting it down as he came to stand next to 'his' vampire. "The sun will be up soon—" He paused mid sentence, hesitating. "S…so we should be getting to sleep..." That was a good cover, right? Vampires burst into flame when the sun hit them or something didn't they? Ivan gave a knowing grin, leaving Katya quite befuddled. Toris glanced to the window, seeing that it was true. The stars were vanishing fast, and pitch blue had become navy. Biting his lower lip, he gave a small nod.

"That's right; you'll all need your rest." Toris looked back towards the siblings. "I should be going now. I have a ways to go before I reach home. I will pray for all of you, for your health and your safety." Toris made the sign of the cross, drawing wide eyes from Ivan. Vampires could _do _that? Toris gave a small bow then before he headed for the door. The young boy hurried after him, catching the Lithuanian vampire by the tail of his shirt before he could reach the door. Waiting for him to turn back around and see what the boy wanted, Ivan reached upwards. Without much thought, he snagged hold of the hair that hung down around Toris' face and tugged... hard. It forced the vampire down until he was level with the young Russian. Ivan did the first thing he thought to do, a mix of mimicry and that puppy-love... Those young lips fell square on his elder's, giving him a quick, inexperienced kiss. Dry chapped lips met Toris' smooth cool ones all too briefly.

"_Mmh_!" Toris' eyes went wide, and just as he pulled back he saw Katya fall to the floor. He himself felt like fainting! Covering his mouth, he frowned at the boy who was now smiling ever so proudly at him. "I-Ivan… That's for people that you love!" Toris protested. Ivan only nodded.

"Yes!" He nodded, "Since I finally found someone I love... I can't let them go without a kiss, right?" An innocent smile formed, and Ivan's cheeks were flushed pink. "So I'll find you again, okay? Toris Laurinaitis." He repeated the name as if to prove that he would never forget it. Toris was shaking his head, at a complete loss for words.

"I-Ivan, you don't… I-I mean you're Russian! You'll go back home eventually, right? I live here in Lithuania. How will you ever find me? N-no, this is foolish." Toris shook his head. "Concentrate on your family! Forget about me, Ivan. This was all nothing but… But a dream. You can't love…" _A monster. _"A-an angel, right?" He smiled weakly. Ivan was clearly confused! Toris had saved his dear family, he was just feeling attached… He would forget all about the strange creature he'd met by the time he was older! But Ivan continued to grin, almost bashfully.

"Be careful okay? Take really good care of yourself while I grow up." Ivan pleaded. He couldn't take care of Toris like he had promised—not yet! He had to get money, and had to be big and strong! To make enough blood to feed his vampiric love... Toris only sighed heavily, still a bit flustered. He hadn't taken his hand away from his mouth just yet, as if guarding it. Setting his hand onto the door, Toris opened it to step halfway outside.

"T… Take care of your family and yourself, Ivan. That's the best thing that you can do for me." He pleaded.

"_Da, _I will." Ivan agreed. And with that the door closed, and the vampire was gone. With a big grin, Ivan moved over to the bed again, taking a seat on side. He gave Natalya a glance. "I'll marry him one day, so be nice!" He scolded her for her glare at the door, but that comment only turned it to him, causing him to startle, and jump a little.


End file.
